AN: Notes at the end. All things Twilight belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. ;)

CHAPTER 4

I dragged my hand through my hair and then across my face, staring at the empty doorway. I grabbed my beer and fell back on the couch, the scene of the crime of my very recent but sadly incomplete blow-job. I took a long pull from the bottle and looked around the shitty room.

Jesus, what the fuck was that?

"Edward," Garrett greeted as I collapsed at the bar, my backpack and guitar case dropping at my feet. I was on my way out, exhausted from the night and still fucking hard, but I needed to get paid, and more importantly, I needed to find out who that fucking brunette was. "So… the blonde?" he said with a wink as he counted out my cash and poured us a closing shot.

"Yeah, that," I said as I tapped my glass to his and quickly downed the shot. "So, she comes back with me, and she's sucking my dick," I started, "like a fucking Hoover, man, seriously."

"So, the usual?" he laughs.

"Uh, not exactly." I pause dramatically, because I know Garrett loves hearing this shit, but he won't be expecting this particular ending. "Right when it starts to get good, that little brunette of yours storms in and fucks up my shit. Suckus interruptus, dude."

"Brunette?" Garrett asks, his brows furrowed in confusion, trying to figure out who I'm talking about.

"Yeah," I said, levelling my eyes with his, like he doesn't know who the fuck I'm talking about. "Long, brown hair. Five feet tall. About 18, maybe. Fucking bitch, man, up in my face, cursing like a dockworker."

Garrett started laughing at my description. I didn't see what was so fucking funny. Let him trade dicks with me, then see who's laughing.

"You mean Bella? Seriously? She got up in your face? For what?"

Bella? Her name was Bella? Why did that suddenly quell one fire and light another? Shit.

"If that's her name. Who the fuck is she, Garrett? She said she works for you, and she screamed at me, got up in my face, and called the blonde a whore."

He was still fucking laughing.

"Jesus, Edward, Bella is my fucking little cousin. I hired her to help out around here, in the office, at the bar, whatever. She just graduated, needed a job. She's fucking harmless, dude!" He slapped the bar to make his point, like I was a pussy or something.

"How little, Garrett? I mean," I cleared my throat, "how old is she? I don't want to get arrested by this chick or anything."

Why the hell did I ask him that? Why do I care? As soon as I said "arrested," he got real fucking quiet and serious.

"She just turned 21. She just looks like jailbait." He muttered that last part, almost to himself. "Wait… Why?" he glared. "What the fuck did you do, Cullen? Did you touch her?" His voice got real quiet, and I thought he was going to come across the bar at me. "If you fucking touched her, I'm going to fuck up your shit, and right fucking now."

Jesus, what was with this night and everyone fucking attacking me?

"Calm down, Garrett," I said. "I didn't touch her, that's not what I'm talking about." I quickly recounted the entire story, adding every gory, humiliating detail to make sure he had an accurate picture of his little bitch of a cousin and how she verbally, and with one finger in my chest, physically assaulted me. When I finished, he just started chuckling to himself again while he wiped down the bar. Fucking pissed me off.

I was staring at him, willing him to look up at me so I could make sure he knew that I wasn't amused, when she came waltzing up to the bar. "She" - meaning the bitch - the brunette bitch. For a few seconds, she almost looked like a normal chick, smiling at Garrett, leaning on the bar, until she turned to look directly at the face of the other person at the bar talking with Garrett, namely, me. Bitch bowed up immediately like a threatened cat, defensive posture, smile gone, knuckles white.

I was waiting for her to start on me again, but she held back, shut her mouth, and just waited. She had to have noticed Garrett and me talking when she walked up, not knowing who I was, just thinking that I was a friend of Garrett's, or, at the very least, a bar patron.

Since Garrett already knew my side of the story, I decided to smile at her, which I did, and I hoped that Garrett thought I was making an attempt at friendliness and concession, while secretly hoping to piss her off with my nonchalance.

Garrett looked from me to her, then back and forth a few times, smiling way too broadly, really amusing himself. That guy was going to get a nut-punch soon if he didn't stop it.

"Bella," Garrett said, "this is Edward. Edward, my cousin Bella." He nodded to both of us, waiting for us to greet each other, or shake hands, or do something that normal, non-aggressive people did. But neither of us moved. I was waiting for her to make a move, and I assumed she was doing the same. We just stared. Or glared, to be slightly more accurate. "Edward is the guy who played - "

"I know who he is," she interrupted, still glaring at me. She was practically spitting, suddenly so angry, much more like the girl I had met earlier. I was kind of glad, because I didn't think Garrett believed me, and I was glad he got to experience it live and in person. And, in front of me, so I could watch.

"Bella," Garrett said gently, like he was talking her down from a roof or something. "Edward's a good friend of mine, and he plays here almost every weekend." He could see that she wasn't backing down, so he continued. "And besides, he wasn't doing anything that I haven't done back there myself." Then, he grinned at me and held up his fist for a bump, which I quickly returned. "Am I right?"

"You are right, my friend," I said, returning his manly-bonding grin. I knew the testosterone display had to be pissing her off, but I was purposely ignoring her, and I couldn't see her face.

I heard her huffing again, that angry-girl breathing, and I turned to look, just in time to see her gather her things and storm out the door.

"Assholes," she muttered under her breath.

AN: Well, now you know who the brunette is. And you know what her connection with Garrett is. (And the blonde was no one, just a groupie and a plot device.) Now, you just have to keep reading to find out what else happens to these happy-go-lucky kids! Hahahahaha...

Thanks to reader deadliestdistractionRN for giving our brunette the new moniker of "Bella Balboa" - that made me GOL (Guffaw Out Loud)!

I think I'll be able to keep to a regular schedule of M-W-F from now on (except for Christmas Day, but I'll TRY!).

And everlasting thanks to LibbyLou862, beta and friend extraordinare!

See ya Wednesday!

Di8